


Trying For a Quiet Mind

by Thebonemoose



Series: Magnus and Lukas (beans and books, babey!) [6]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drug Use, Healthy Communication, Jon's burn, Marijuana, Mild Injury, Multi, Vaping, coffee shop/bookstore au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:48:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23877202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thebonemoose/pseuds/Thebonemoose
Summary: The aftermath of Sasha and Tim's night together. Jon sustains an injury at work. Basira finally meets Peter Lukas.
Relationships: Basira Hussain & Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Elias Bouchard & Tim Stoker, Georgie Barker/Melanie King, Jonathan Sims & Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood & Jonathan Sims, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Sasha James & Tim Stoker, Sasha James/Tim Stoker
Series: Magnus and Lukas (beans and books, babey!) [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1688632
Comments: 46
Kudos: 224





	Trying For a Quiet Mind

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Quinine by Dessa which is a great song and is entirely unrelated to the fic, as per usual. (also I forgot to say this on the last fic but the title from that one is from This Tornado Loves You by Neko Case)
> 
> If you're new here, you should start from the beginning of the series otherwise you will probably be quite confused.
> 
> As always, this series was conceptualized in my tma discord chat and would not exist without them.

Tim was still asleep when Sasha woke up. He was snoring softly, and there was a small trail of drool at the corner of his mouth. 

It was gross, but Sasha found she didn’t mind. 

She reached out a finger and poked his cheek. “Tim.”

He grunted. 

She poked him again. “Tim, wake up.” 

She waited. No response. 

_A new tactic, then._ “Tim, shit! We’re late for work!”

He jolted awake and blinked rapidly as sunlight assaulted his vision. “What? We’re late?”

Sasha shook her head, smiling slightly. “No, I lied.”

Tim shoved his face back into his pillow. “You’re evil,” he said, although it came out muffled. He reached an arm around Sasha’s middle and pulled her close. “Cuddle with me, evil mastermind.”

Sasha laughed and scooted closer to Tim. It wasn’t cold in her room, but Tim was pleasantly warm anyways. “Remember last night?”

Tim looked at her funny. “Yes? We weren’t even drunk, Sash,” he said, bemused. 

“I _meant_ do you remember how you said you were going to beat me at Mario Kart and then...you didn’t?”

“Yeah, well, I was somewhat distracted, if you’ll recall,” He said snobbishly, turning his nose up at her. 

She grinned. “Want a rematch?”

“Of Mario Kart or of the other thing?” Then he shook his head. “Doesn’t matter, yes to both.”

She leaned in and kissed the tip of his nose. “Okay. After breakfast though,” she said, and he perked up. 

“Ooh, what are we having?”

“Whatever you’re making,” she shot back with a smirk, and he laughed. 

“Burnt bread it is, then,” he said, and rolled himself off the bed ungracefully. 

Sasha really should not have found that as attractive as she did. 

In spite of Tim’s threat of burnt bread, they did cook a delicious breakfast together. They even ate at the table rather than the couch, something Sasha did not typically do when it was just her eating. 

“What are your plans today?” Tim asked before taking a sip of orange juice. 

She shook her head and swallowed her food. “I have no plans. Why?”

“‘Cause I was going to ask to keep hanging out here, but I didn’t want to keep you from other plans,” he replied. 

Sasha was touched. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. “Oh, actually, I do have plans,” she said, her tone regretful. 

He shook his head. “Oh, no worries--”

“My plans are kicking your ass at Mario Kart. Are you available?” She asked pleasantly. 

Tim looked down and chuckled, shaking his head. “Unfortunately Ms. James, I am only available to kick _your_ ass at Mario Kart. Will that work instead?” He asked with a fake grin. 

“I guess we’ll just have to find out, Stoker,” she said, smiling. 

“Damn, I guess we will.” He was looking at her so softly it made her heart stutter. 

_Fucking get it together, Sasha._

Tim did end up beating her at Mario Kart. And then she beat him nine more times as revenge. He didn’t seem to mind, though, judging by his triumphant dancing anytime he remembered that he had, in fact, beaten her. 

Her heart kept stuttering. It was getting very annoying. 

The rest of the day passed lazily, and it was after dinner before Tim even mentioned leaving. 

“I guess I should get out of your hair,” he said casually, handing her a clean dish to dry. 

_Or you could stay in my hair, and live there like the rat from Ratatouille._

Sasha almost dropped her dish. 

“Alright, Sasha?” Tim asked, concern tinging his face. 

She forced herself to nod. “Yep! Just a… weird thought,” she said vaguely. 

He nodded understandingly. “You know, the weirdest thought I ever had was related to that one actor, what’s his name? He’s an American actor, older, his face sort of looks like a slab of meat?”

“Oh! Oh, um… Ron Perlman!”

Tim snapped. “That’s the one! Yeah, my brain was very randomly like ‘hey, Tim, what if you were followed around by Ron Perlman and he haunted you like a ghost and every time you told someone that Ron Perlman was stalking and maybe hunting you, they laughed, and said that Ron Perlman wasn’t real?’” He laughed. 

Sasha stared at him. “And that was… a thought, you had? A real, sober, thought?”

“Well I didn’t know we were categorizing them into sober thoughts or… non-sober thoughts…” Tim mumbled.

Sasha didn’t try to quell the fondness for him that arose within her, she just smiled. She knew she probably looked goofy, but he was her friend, and he made her laugh. She was allowed to look like a dope every now and again. 

“You can stay, you know,” she found herself saying. 

Tim looked at her, surprise on his features. “Really? You don’t mind?” he asked. 

Sasha shrugged. “I never mind spending time with you, Tim,” she said, and internally winced at how meaningful it came out.

She couldn’t bring herself to regret it, though, because Tim lit up like a candle when she said it. 

“Okay! Um, yeah, I’ll stay,” he told her, grinning and clutching a wet dish to his chest. He noticed it only a moment later, and frowned at the dark water spot over his button-up. “You don’t happen to have any spare clothes that might fit me, do you? I don’t really relish the idea of spending another day in these,” he grimaced.

“I’m sure I can lend you something,” Sasha replied easily. “Here, you finish these and I’ll have a look,” she said. 

She came back out with a few potential clothing articles, and found Tim drying his hands on a dish towel. She tossed him the bundle of clothes. 

“You sure these will fit? We’ve got quite a height difference, you and I,” he asked, holding up a T-shirt to his torso. 

Sasha shrugged. “It’s all either stuff from exes or that I bought large on purpose,” she explained. 

“Right. And… which are these again?” He held up a pair of men’s pants. “I have to say, I’m not sure how I feel about wearing your exes’ underwear,” he said, his eyebrows raised. 

“Those are mine, I use them as sleep shorts. They’re a bit too big, I don’t think it’ll be a problem,” Sasha retorted, rolling her eyes. 

Tim raised his eyebrows again but nodded, then left the kitchen to get changed. 

“Good news!” he announced when he came back. 

Sasha turned around to see him wearing her clothes. 

“The pants fit super well; unfortunately the T-shirt does not, so... now I’m wearing a crop top,” he said, and reached his arms up. The shirt hitched up, exposing Tim’s midriff.

“There are worse things,” Sasha said evenly.

Tim winked and clicked his tongue at her. 

Sasha decided to make them both tea, and they sat on the couch holding their mugs and chatting. Once they were settled, Sasha spoke. “We should do this again sometime.”

Tim smirked. “What, hang out on your couch?”

She shook her head. “No, like all of this,” she told him, gesturing to the room. 

He furrowed his brows. “Are you asking to be friends with benefits?” Tim asked.

She nodded, a bit self-conscious. 

Tim looked away from her, frowning into the distance. 

To anyone else it might look like he was ignoring her, but Sasha knew him well enough to know that he was just processing. Although… he did seem to be wrestling with it. Sasha began to feel uneasy the longer Tim stayed silent. 

Just as Sasha was about to say ‘nevermind’ he looked at her again. He nodded.

“Okay. I’m in,” he said decisively. 

Sasha felt giddy all of a sudden. She scooted closer to him on the couch and leaned her head against his shoulder. He pulled away, but only to put his arm around her so he could tuck her in closer. 

Sasha couldn’t restrain her grin when he kissed the top of her head. 

“Please pick up, please pick up, please pick u--”

The line clicked. “Hello?”

“Jon!” Tim all but shrieked, and he heard a groan from the other end. 

“Ow, Tim.”

Tim grimaced. “Sorry, sorry. But… I need some advice.”

Jon sighed. “Call Sasha.”

“It’s about Sasha.”

“...Call Martin.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “No can do, Jon.”

“Hm… Elias?”

“Jon! You’re my confidant now, it’s better if you just accept it and move on,” Tim said impatiently. He heard a heavy sigh from the other end. 

“Yes, alright. What is your… dilemma?” Jon asked. 

Tim sighed in relief. “Thank you. Er, stop me if any of this is, well, too much information--”

“Dear lord,” Jon said, and Tim could almost see him pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. 

“Look, Sasha and I slept together on Friday night, and then we spent the weekend together, and I don’t know what to do,” Tim admitted.

“Well, um… Congrats? It seems like she likes you back, then. I hadn’t realized you decided to tell her. Good for you, Tim,” Jon said quietly. 

“Oh. Um, no actually. I--I didn’t. “

Jon hesitated. “You didn’t tell her?”

“No. She came onto me, and then on Saturday night we sort of… agreed to be friends with benefits? And she still doesn’t know I’m into her.”

Jon exhaled. “Well. That does complicate things a bit.”

Tim ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah. Jon, is this a dumb idea? Am I an idiot for doing this with her? I’m probably just going to end up breaking my own heart, aren’t I? Or even worse, breaking her trust in me and completely ruining our friendship!” Tim was shouting by the end. 

“Tim, please try to calm down. We’ll… We’ll figure it out, alright? But I have to be honest… I don’t think you’re going to ruin your friendship.”

Tim took a deep breath. He nodded, even though Jon couldn’t see him. “Okay,” he said. “Okay. Look, I’m worried that because I have feelings for her, and she doesn’t reciprocate, that a friends with benefits arrangement is like… taking advantage of her, somehow. It feels… gross.” Tim made up his mind. “Alright, that’s it, I’m telling her I can’t do it.”

“Tim, stop making rash decisions. Figure out what you really want and how you really feel. Then talk to Sasha about it, alright?” Jon said. 

He had a point. 

“Okay. No, that’s good advice, Jon, thank you.”

“What do you want, above everything else?” Jon asked, and Tim hesitated.

“I would say I want to be in a relationship with Sasha, but that’s not actually true. I just… I want to keep being her friend. Even if it means I never date her. I just… I can’t lose her, she’s the most important thing in the world to me, Jon.”

When Jon spoke again, he was quiet. “Well… alright. There you have it. Just… be her friend, Tim. Do that before everything else.”

Tim felt… kind of floored, actually. “Damn, Sims. Who knew you were so good at the emotional stuff?”

“I have hidden depths,” Jon replied drily. “Is there anything else you need?”

“No, no. That… should be all of it,” Tim laughed. 

“In that case, I’m going to hang up now. 

“Right. Um… Jon?”

“Yes, Tim?”

“Thank you. I mean it. Genuinely thank you.”

Jon chuckled. “Anytime, Tim,” he said casually, but Tim wasn’t fooled.

He really meant it. 

Tim steeled himself, and opened up his text conversation with Sasha.

Tim: Hey… I’ve been thinking. 

Sasha: Uh oh. 

Tim: Haha, you’re hilarious.

Tim: But really. I have some… reservations about our whole.. Arrangement, I guess?

Sasha: …

Sasha: Okay, no problem. What kind of reservations?

Tim: So, here’s the thing. I value your friendship probably the most I have ever valued any non-familial relationship in my life. I really, really don’t want to lose you. 

Tim: And I’m worried that if we keep sleeping together, I will lose you. 

Tim: And Sasha, that simply cannot be had. 

Sasha: Alright Tim, first of all, I want to say thanks for talking to me about this. I never want to make you feel uneasy or uncomfortable.

Sasha: Secondly… Your friendship means the world to me too. The last thing I ever want is to jeopardize it. If you really feel like sleeping together will do that, then okay. We won’t. 

Sasha: But I will say that I don’t think it will. I’ve considered it, Tim, and any way I look at it, nothing you could say or do would drive me away. If the problem is on my end, then… Well, firstly I apologize, and I would like to hear more about it so I can stop doing whatever it is immediately. 

Tim: Okay, stop talking, you’re perfect, you’ve done nothing wrong.

Tim: And when you say ‘nothing I could say or do’... Just how many things did you consider?”

Sasha: All of them. 

Sasha: Like, including the possibility where you ask Peter Lukas to be a third.

Tim: Sasha! That’s disgusting. I would never.

Sasha: See! Even the ones where you do something so ridiculously out of character that it makes you laugh. I’ve considered them, and I’m alright with it. 

Tim: You’ve really thought this through, huh?

Sasha: I don’t do things in half measures, Tim.

Tim: No.

Tim: No, you don’t.

Tim: You’re sure?

Sasha: Positive. 

Tim: Well. I guess we’re back on then.

Sasha: Friends first, Stoker. That’s the Sasha guarantee :)

Tim: Friends first, James.

Tim: :)

[Read 4:01 PM]

Agnes was arguably Jon’s least favorite customer. 

She was respectful, of course. She wasn’t rude, and she never threatened to have someone fired for making her drink wrong. 

The problem with Agnes Montague is that she only drank hot coffee.

But not just… ‘hot coffee’. Scalding coffee. Coffee so hot it would give you third degree burns. 

Which Jon knew, because he got stuck making her Hell-Drink, and spilled it all over his hand, leaving him with angry, excruciating third-degree burns over his right hand. 

He screamed when it happened, of course, eliciting no reaction from Agnes aside from a polite smile. This was mostly from the surprise, given that he could not actually feel the burn. 

Martin had rushed over to him and ordered Georgie at the counter to call an ambulance. He grabbed the first aid kit and wrapped Jon’s burn loosely in a bandage, taking special care to wrap the fingers separately so they wouldn’t stick together. 

Jon didn’t know how he knew that, until he realized Martin was explaining it to him as he worked. _That was nice of him,_ Jon thought. 

Jon’s hand was shaking, held gingerly in Martin’s own. Then he was being ushered out of the shop, and Martin was lifting his arm above his head, and helped into an ambulance, and-- Was time supposed to be passing this quickly?

He looked over and found Martin sitting in the ambulance beside him, looking quite anxious indeed. Well, that wasn’t good, probably. There was another person there too, fussing over him. 

Jon really would rather have preferred it to be just him and Martin. 

Then Jon felt dizzy, and he fell asleep. 

So that’s why Agnes was Jon’s least favorite customer. 

The doctors had said he had been fairly lucky, and would not need skin grafts. He did have considerable nerve damage in his right hand, though. He’d been doing physical therapy at the behest of his doctors. 

It was frustrating, but effective. 

Jon had had quite a few visitors before he was discharged, a fact which made him pleased and embarrassed in equal measures. 

He was finally allowed to go back to work, after Jonah Magnus begrudgingly changed the company policy to never serve liquids above 50°C. From what Jon heard, James Wright led several meetings about safety and proper procedures. Elias and Jonah both were very irritated by that, it seemed. 

Jon sighed, and entered the coffee shop. Tim and Martin greeted him with identical beaming smiles.

He smiled back, because otherwise they would both be disappointed, and pout at him, and Jon simply did not have the emotional capability to deal with that. 

“We all chipped in and got you a care package, Jon,” Martin said cheerfully when Jon had approached. He tied his apron gingerly, being careful of his injured hand. 

Jon raised an eyebrow. “Is Jonah Magnus included in this ‘all’?”

Tim shook his head. “Nope! He’s an asshole, so he decided not to chip in. Elias and James did, though. And Lukas, although I think he just put in a magazine from the 70s,” Tim frowned. 

“...But Sasha made cookies, and there’s a bunch of other stuff from everyone else,” Martin added.

Jon smiled. “Thank you. I appreciate that, really,” he told them.

Tim nodded. “It’s in the breakroom, let me know if you need help bringing it to your flat,” he said. 

This touching moment was then interrupted by Jon’s newest least favorite person, Agnes herself. She and Jude Perry came waltzing into the coffee shop as if they hadn’t caused Jon significant physical and mental distress.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jon saw Martin glance at him anxiously. 

“I’ll get it,” he said to Jon and Tim, then walked to the register and greeted Agnes.

“Martin, you don’t have to--” Jon, began, but Tim put a hand on his arm. 

“Jon, obviously you can’t do it. Martin can handle himself, he’ll be okay,” Tim assured.

Jon looked back to Martin, who was grabbing a cup and writing ‘Agnes’ on it in shaky letters. Jon turned to Tim, eyebrows raised. 

Jude and Agnes, meanwhile, were watching Martin like hawks, seemingly categorizing every move he made as he fumbled his way to filling up her coffee.

“Oh my god, what is he doing?” Tim whispered suddenly. Jon looked, and saw that Martin was filling up the cup with cold brew. 

“Oh, fuck,” Jon said, and Martin put a lid on the coffee and handed it to Agnes.

“Jon. Jon, the fucking cup is sweating. There is condensation on the cup, Jon,” Tim said, his eyes wide in horror. 

All three men behind the counter gazed in terror as Agnes took her first sip. Jon felt as if time was passing by at half-speed: slowly Agnes brought the cup to her mouth, and slowly she tilted it back. 

Her expression changed minutely; the polite smile she always wore slipping for a fraction of a second before it was back in place. She tilted her head at them, a clear acknowledgement of whatever unspoken tension hung like anvils over their heads. Then she and Jude Perry walked out, and Agnes carelessly tossed the full coffee into the rubbish bin as they did. 

Martin let out a heaving breath, and Tim was at his side in an instant. 

“Are you alright?” he asked urgently, and Martin nodded. 

“That was the most afraid I have ever been in my life, oh my god,” Martin said, swallowing great lungfuls of air and bracing himself against the counter. 

“Th-thank you, Martin,” Jon said, though he didn’t fully know why. Martin hadn’t done it for _him,_ really. He had just… volunteered. It wasn’t as if it truly meant anything. 

Still, it felt wrong not to thank Martin, so he did. 

And judging by the way Martin stood up just a bit straighter, and nodded once, his expression proud?

It was the right choice. 

“You’re all liars.” Basira stared Melanie down evenly, and Melanie shook her head.

“I have no idea what you’re staring at me for, Basira. I’m on your side,” Melanie replied emphatically.

“You’re a traitor is what you are,” Tim insisted.

Georgie sighed. As entertaining as this debate was, it had been getting a bit overplayed. “If we got you concrete proof that Peter Lukas is real, will that be good enough?”

Basira seemed to consider this, tilting her head. Daisy raised her eyebrow. After what Georgie assumed was a silent conversation between Daisy and Basira, Basira agreed. “Concrete evidence,” she confirmed. 

Melanie and Tim both nodded, then looked to Georgie. Oh, right. She had been the one with the plan. 

“Alright, kids. Let’s go on a field trip,” she said, then paused. She turned to Tim.

“Unbutton your top button.”

Tim looked taken aback. “What? Why?”

“Confidence,” she replied with a wink. 

Tim groaned. “I can’t believe Sasha told you about that,” he mumbled, unbuttoning his top button. 

Georgie led the procession of curious, lovable misfits up to Peter Lukas’s office, and knocked once, then flung upon the door with the kind of confidence only someone truly fearless could possess.

The room was… empty?

Well, it had a desk, and the feed from the security cameras, but no human was sitting in the leather desk chair, and the rest of the room was obscured by a bizarre and thick layer of fog. 

Georgie inhaled. Nope, not fog, then. 

“Oh my god,” Tim giggled. “Peter Lukas _vapes_!” he exclaimed, and there was a thump from underneath the desk. 

Georgie met Basira’s eyes. They were about to step forward when someone came up behind them

“What are you guys doi--” Martin said, then froze. 

“Um,” he said eloquently. 

Georgie internally agreed with his assessment. 

Basira stepped inside. She walked around the desk and coughed as a violently offensive strawberry-mango smell assaulted her senses. She crouched down out of view.

“Hello,” Basira said. 

“Hello!” said the desk, surprisingly chipper.

“Peter, what are you doing under your desk?” Martin asked, deadpan.

“ _Obviously_ ,” he began, his voice still oddly pleasant. “I am avoiding people. Or can’t you all read social cues?”

“Yes, we’re all very bad, socially,” Tim said blankly. 

“Now that you’ve interrupted me, care to leave me alone for the next decade?” Peter Lukas asked, his affable facade finally slipping.

Basira stood, and nodded. “I’m satisfied. We can go now.”

The six of them filed out of Peter’s foggy, artificial-scented office and reconvened in the seating area of the coffee shop.

“So now that that’s done, Martin, how _is_ that crush of yours going?” Georgie asked, and Martin tripped over thin air. 

He looked at her, eyes wide. “How did you know?”

Georgie shrugged. Melanie, Tim, Daisy, and Basira all avoided eye contact. 

Martin stared at them. “You all knew?!”

“To be honest, it’s really not that hard to tell. But don’t worry! Jon has no idea,” Tim assured. 

Martin groaned and slid to the floor, holding his face in his hands. “My life is over,” he moaned. 

Tim sat beside him. “You’ll be alright. Jon is like the most oblivious person ever.”

Georgie nodded. “He didn’t know I liked him until our fourth date, Martin. You’d have to tell him to his face for it to stick. And even then he still may not get it,” she said. 

Martin seemed to take a modicum of comfort in that. 

“I haven’t known Jon for very long,” Daisy started, “But I’m sure he has no clue of your feelings for him. He would have freaked out about them long ago if he had.”

Georgie nodded. They were silent for a moment as Martin processed that. 

Melanie broke the silence. “Honestly, Martin?” 

He looked at her. 

“You could do better,” she said with a shrug. 

Martin huffed out a laugh. “Thanks?” 

Melanie nodded. “Don’t mention it.”

The conversation petered out after that, (pun intended), and Georgie and Melanie decided to grab the Admiral and leave early. 

After all, it wasn’t as if Peter Lukas was going to stop them.

Tim had a problem. 

Well, Tim had several problems, including but not limited to: having a huge crush on his best friend, trying to set up two of his other friends (both of whom were annoyingly clueless), and being archnemeses with a freaky, wig-saleswoman, clown… lady. 

Or whatever Nikola’s actual job title was. Tim didn’t really care. 

But now Tim had a new problem; a problem whose name was Elias Bouchard, and who was currently moping because a certain dickish cousin of his had confiscated his stash. 

Typically when Tim encountered Elias, he was as easy-going as ever, wearing an oversized Baja hoodie, and probably smelling very dank indeed. 

Now, though, Elias was wearing a suit and a tie, with his hair slicked back, and looking positively miserable. 

“I’m… very sorry to hear that, Elias,” Tim had said when Elias told him that Jonah had taken his weed away. 

Elias had nodded sorrowfully, and curled up on a booth, with his legs sticking off the end. 

“Jonah said I have to be boring now,” Elias sighed. 

Tim pursed his lips. “Were those his actual words, or…?”

Elias continued as if he hadn’t heard Tim. “So now I’m wearing this terrible suit, and I look like a sellout, don’t I? Don’t lie to me Tim; I’ll never forgive you if you lie.”

“You certainly look… professional,” Tim winced.

Elias groaned. “Oh my god, I knew it. But you know what, Tim? There’s one thing Jonah can never take away from me.”

Tim was going to regret asking. He could already tell. “And what’s that?”

“This!” Elias exclaimed, then stuck his leg up in the air, pulled his trouser leg down, and exposed his ankle: clothed in a black, marijuana patterned sock.

Tim floundered for a response. “You’re really… sticking it to the man, eh?” 

Elias sighed mournfully. “Thank you, Tim. You always know just what to say.”

Tim nodded in spite of the fact that Elias was still staring dejectedly at the ceiling, and could not see him. 

Over the following days, Elias became even more unbearable. Jon and Martin both told Tim that he would sigh loudly and slump over his laptop, choosing to work at the coffee shop instead of his office in the hopes that enough customers would complain and Jonah would let Elias have his stash back.

So far, all it had done was drive Jon to the brink of insanity. 

“I genuinely think I may kill him,” Jon said seriously as he, Tim, Martin, and Sasha ate lunch in the breakroom. 

Martin shook his head. “You don’t have it in you,” he said easily. 

Tim raised his eyebrows. “Oh, and you do?” he asked. 

Martin sobered, and nodded once.

Tim’s eyes widened, and he looked away quickly. 

“It’ll work itself out, I’m sure,” Sasha said then, and Tim felt a rush of affection for her. Jon caught his eye, and raised a brow. 

Tim flicked a crisp in his direction. 

Sasha ended up being right, however. After a week of the coffee shop-- and occasionally, the bookstore-- being haunted by a pale, sober specter of Elias, James finally caved. According to Elias, James championed on Elias’ behalf and eventually wore Jonah down.

Tim was not sure how accurate that was, but in any case, Elias was happy to share now that his stores had been replenished, which is how Tim found himself squatting in the alley beside the coffee shop, passing a joint back and forth with Elias. 

Tim exhaled a smokey breath, and gave Elias the rest of the joint. “I should get back in. Thanks for sharing, Double Boss,” he said, and Elias gave him a lazy salute. 

Tim tried to cough covertly as he came back in through the coffee shop entrance. Unfortunately, Jon _definitely_ saw him, and Jon _definitely_ knew what he and Elias had been doing in that alley. 

Tim made a face. _That thought came out way grosser than I intended. Oh my god, I hope nobody here is a mindreader._

He eventually made it to the bookstore, and Sasha looked at him with an eyebrow raised. 

_She’s so smart and beautiful I want to give her 10,000 tulips._

“Hey, Tim,” Sasha said evenly, the barest hint of a smile on her lips. 

‘Hello, Sash,” he replied, trying desperately to sound more sober than he was.

“You smell… dank,” she commented. 

Tim’s eyes widened. She was onto him. 

Well, no use hiding it, then.

“Would you like to hear a secret?” Tim asked, lowering his voice to a stage-whisper.

She leaned in close. “Yes,” Sasha whispered back. 

“Elias gave me drugs,” he whispered into her ear, then pulled away, grinning. 

Sasha pressed a hand to her chest. “And you didn’t even invite me?” she said, raising her eyebrows. 

_Uh oh._

_He had accidentally made Sasha feel left out._

_Uh oh #2: Tim was going to cry._

Tim swallowed thickly. 

Sasha furrowed her brows.

_Oh my god, here it comes._

“T-Tim… are you _crying_?”

Tim sniffed and shook his head. 

“Oh, Tim,” Sasha said, and wrapped her arms around him.

“I’m so high right now,” Tim said tearfully. 

Sasha laughed a bit. “I know, love, that’s alright.”

Tim cried harder, because Sasha had called him ‘love’ and he felt a little bit like all of his dreams were coming true and he was too zooted to enjoy it. 

“I was just joking, Tim, it’s okay,” Sasha assured, and Tim nodded. 

Sasha kept hugging him, which Tim enjoyed, even though he still felt lame for crying in front of his crush. She wouldn’t hold it against him, though.

Sasha was good like that. 

Martin sighed.

“Something wrong?” Sasha asked, taking a sip of her tea. 

Martin shook his head, a bit dejectedly. “Not really,” he said, frowning. “I’m just a hopeless romantic and -- big shocker here-- it still has not paid off.”

“Ah.”

“Things with Jon not going well, then?” She asked. 

Martin quirked his head. “It’s not that they’re not going well,” he said. “It’s that they’re not going at all. There are no things with Jon. Well, there’s a friendship thing, I suppose, and that’s going well. But there’s no romance thing.”

“I’m sorry, Martin. You know I think you two would be good together,” she told him. 

He smiled slightly. “Thanks. What about you and Tim? Still just friends?”

She hummed. “With benefits.”

Martin raised his eyebrows. This was new. “You two are friends with benefits?”

Sasha nodded, still clutching her mug. “Yep. Started several weeks back, actually. I asked him to stay over, and we slept together. Side note, I don’t know if you happened to notice, Tim is _very hot_.”

“Yes, Sasha, I am somewhat familiar with Tim’s ‘very hot’...ness.” Martin said drily. 

“Anyways, I asked him if he wanted to keep sleeping together, and at first he said yes. But then a few days later he texted me and seemed very… nervous, I guess? He said he was really worried that it would ruin our friendship. So I told him there was nothing he could do that would jeopardize the relationship we have,” Sasha said easily. 

Martin frowned. “Wait, _nothing_?”

Sasha shrugged. “Yeah. Every way I looked at it, anything ‘bad’ that Tim would realistically do would not be enough to hurt our friendship in any significant way.”

“What if he lied to you?”

“He wouldn’t, he’s way too honest for that. Even if he did, he wouldn’t lie to me about something so vital I couldn’t forgive him.”

Martin raised his eyebrows and leaned back. “Wow, you really trust him.”

Sasha nodded. “Of course. He’s my best friend,” she said, smiling softly. 

“What if he got feelings for you? How would that impact your friendship? Or at least, your ‘arrangement’.”

Sasha thought for a moment. “...I don’t really think it would, to be honest. If Tim liked me, it wouldn’t impact us, at least on my end. Obviously, I would respect whatever boundaries he wanted to set.”

He nodded. “Right. So tell me again what you like about Tim,” Martin said, and Sasha got right to it. 

“Well, he’s nice, and he cares about me, and he makes me laugh--”

“Wait, Sasha,” Martin stopped her. “Do you _like_ Tim?”

Sasha furrowed her brows, startled. “No, Martin, of course not. We are just friends. We’ll probably be friends for the rest of our lives. _Only_ friends.”

Martin put his hands up in symbolic surrender. “Sure, of course. It just sounded like you really liked him.”

Sasha fidgeted in her seat. “Well, I do. As a friend.”

“My mistake, then.”

“Um, anyways,” Sasha cleared her throat, tapping her fingernails against the ceramic of her mug. “How was it when Jon was in the hospital?”

Martin sighed. “Stressful. But he’s doing alright, as you know.”

“Do you know how the physical therapy is going?”

He nodded. “Jon says it’s been good, albeit frustrating at times. He complains about the scar, though.”

“It doesn’t hurt him, right?”

Martin shook his head. “He couldn’t feel the burn at all.”

“Yikes. Does he just not like the way it looks, then?”

Martin nodded. “He may not like it, but I do,” Martin mumbled, then froze. “Oh, I didn't mean to say that.”

Sasha laughed. “Martin! I’m surprised at you!”

“I hate that he got hurt, of course! I feel really bad about that!”

“Of course,” Sasha teased. “But there’s something hot about a man with a scar, isn’t there?” she baited. 

Martin mumbled.

“What was that?”

“I said, ‘yes, there is.’”

Sasha nodded in self-satisfaction. 

“What if it were Tim with a scar, hm?”

Sasha tilted her head in vague agreement. “Fair enough.”

“Anyways, I’m tired of talking about Jon.”

Sasha scoffed. “Well that’s simply not true.”

Martin sighed. “Fine. I’m tired of talking about my crush on Jon and would like to talk about whether or not you think Daisy and Basira are dating.”

Sasha leaned forward eagerly, her eyes bright. “Ohoho, Martin. My money’s on yes.”

Martin raised his eyebrows. “Really? You think so? I’m certain they’re friends and nothing more. Platonic life partners, maybe.”

“Martin, you must need glasses if you can’t see what’s between them.”

“I already have glasses.”

Sasha frowned. “Really? You never wear them.”

“I wear contacts most days. I drink too much tea, it fogs the lenses,” he explained. 

“Martin… You’re adorable. 

“Thank...you?”

“You’re welcome. Anyways! At the very least, and I mean the _very least_ , Daisy is in love with Basira.”

Martin sighed. “Look, they’re close, sure, but--”

Just then, the break room door swung open, and Jon came in, looking down at his phone. 

“Jon! Answer a question for me,” Sasha said quickly.

Jon looked up to her, eyes wide. 

“Do you think Basira and Daisy are in love, yes or no?”

Jon frowned. He worried his lip between his teeth. “Yes,” he said at last. 

Sasha wheeled around and pointed her finger at Martin. “Ha! That’s two against one. Majority rules.”

Martin crossed his arms. “Sasha, we both know it doesn’t count unless we have votes from everyone,” he told her. 

She swore under her breath. “Fine. We’ll get everyone’s votes.”

**Are Basira and Daisy romantically involved?**

**Elias: Yes!  
Tim: No  
Melanie:Yes  
Jon: Yes  
Georgie: No  
Sasha: Yes  
Martin: No  
Peter: Leave Me Alone  
James: [Unavailable]  
Annabelle: Yes :)  
Julia: No  
Trevor: No  
Gerry: who are these people  
The Admiral: Meow**

**Results: Inconclusive**

Martin looked up at Sasha, who was smiling innocently.

“This is unscientific, and I’m shocked at you.”

Sasha rolled her eyes and took the paper from him. 

“Go be shocked somewhere else, I have to get back to work,” she replied, shoving him playfully. 

He shook his head fondly, and reluctantly did the same.

**Author's Note:**

> The Ron perlman part is inspired by my sister’s real life fear of ron perlman. Mister Perlman, if you’re reading this… I loved you in Pacific Rim. 
> 
> If any of my burn shit is wrong I apologize, I am not a medical professional, I am an idiot with wifi and the barest of research skills.


End file.
